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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22497229">no one can find the rewind button</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylazine/pseuds/xylazine'>xylazine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 16:55:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>929</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22497229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylazine/pseuds/xylazine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by @michaels-blackhat on tumblr and their beautiful piece dreamer on the run. A not quite companion piece from Max's point of view.</p><p>The day after Rosa's death, Liz starts out running the ghosts that haunt her. Max has never stopped thinking about her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Max Evans/Liz Ortecho</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>no one can find the rewind button</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Max Evans never stopped thinking about Liz Ortecho once she'd left. </p><p>He'd been so wrapped up and twisted in Isobel that he'd never paused to think of Liz and all she must be going through. At least not at first. His world had been shaken to its core and he had to figure out how to pick up the pieces and be the rock for his sister. Even his relationship with Michael suffered while he shielded Isobel from the worst of her storm. It took him a while to enter the world again and by then she was long gone.</p><p>He thought of tracking her down. Apologizing for everything, telling her anything. But then she'd know his secrets. Secrets he swore he'd never tell another. Secrets that weren't solely his own. Secrets that her sister had died at his sister's hands and he'd helped cover it all up. Secrets best left unsaid. </p><p>Isobel remembered nothing and Max wasn't sure if that was worse. He would never ask what drove her to kill Rosa so he would never know why she had lost control and killed three girls. Rosa may have been cold and antagonistic recently but murder? It seemed so far of a stretch for a simple high school rivalry and so beyond who Isobel was. </p><p>Michael told himself that it hadn't really been Isobel that killed Rosa. The thing that had killed Rosa may have looked like their sister but something was off. But Max had seen his sister standing over Rosa's body, blood on her hands. What else was he supposed to think? That there were other aliens around that could what... possess them? They'd spent years hoping for answers, for contact with others like them. There'd been nothing before so how could he pretend it had happened now? </p><p>It was hard to figure out how to navigate the shambles of his life. His hopes and dreams had died with Rosa and Kate and Jasmine. Names he carried the weight of every day. Names that rooted him in a darkness he couldn't shed. </p><p>His family was fractured. Michael refused to speak to him, the burden of that night too heavy for them to bear.  Likewise, a bright future was left to tarnish. Isobel seemed to fair the best, pushing down all the darkness until she was all light and sparkle. She found love and was content to carry on being the Queen Bee of Roswell, all the while hiding the truth of who she was and what she knew. Not knowing what else to do, how else to protect Isobel and Michael and all their secrets, Max doubled down on blending in. He ignored how every fiber of his being longed to find Liz.</p><p>He got a job with the police department. Some part of him longed to make a difference and maybe this way he could improve the world a little. It wasn't much but it was something. And something was almost like living most days. </p><p>On quiet nights at his ranch house, though, he could practically hear the wind blowing across the desert, calling to him. "Find her," it whispered.</p><p>He'd tuned it out, made sure Isobel was happy, made sure Michael didn't get in to too much trouble with the law, made sure their secrets stayed buried. He hit it off with his partner, formed a bizarre partnership that worked for them. Never too much, blurring lines but not crossing them. He pretended he could lead a normal life in Roswell, where even as an alien they accepted him as one of their own. </p><p>But the wind still pulled at him, pushed at his resolve. Find her. Find her. <i>Find her.</i> It washed over him like a mantra he could no longer ignore. He would, he promised. He'd find her and he'd be home. </p><p>He quit his job. Dropped his gun and  badge on the chief's desk and left in his jeep. Didn't say good bye to Cam. Texted Isobel his plans because he knew she'd try to stop him. He felt something inside him ease a little when Roswell was in his rear view. </p><p>He didn't know where he was headed. Didn't know where she'd gone. He followed his gut and put as much distance between himself and Roswell as possible. </p><p>He could feel her in the places she'd stopped, echoes of her etched in the stones, the trees, the water, the earth. He couldn't tell when she'd been there, just that she had. And it was a relief to know she'd seen so much more than their tiny town. </p><p>Weeks stretched into months into a year. Isobel left messages every day worrying about him. Michael even texted once or twice. But Max couldn't stop looking. Liz was an itch that had gotten under his skin and he'd been ignoring it for ten years. She was still the air he breathed and he felt like he was suffocating without her. He'd rest when he found her. </p><p>He didn't know the plan once he did. Would he tell her everything? Would he just breathe her in and let her leave again? He'd told her once he'd follow her anywhere but would she still want him to? He couldn't see that far into the future. Couldn't think beyond finding her again. </p><p>So when he pulled into a dark motel for the night, he didn't see her. Not at first. But he felt her gaze on him, probing and wary. </p><p>"Liz."</p><p>And for the first time in ten years he finally felt like he could breathe.</p>
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